Page 43 of The Devil's Bargain
Mitri’s brow furrowed at the nickname, but he didn’t call him out on it. “I think, since it was Nero, that makes the most sense. Who else would have it in for Titus?”
“Why would Nero want to kill him?”
“Because of the trial, of course,” he said it like he thought Calix was stupid. “Amory used to talk to me about it all the time. How Titus and Bruce both sided with you at the trial, which was why you were able to have all of the charges brought against you dropped. I mean, of course, you were innocent, but without their advocacy, things could have gone very differently for you.”
Well, sure, but…
“Nero said he forgave me for our past.” Cal searched his memory, but there were no hints of even potential animosity from Nero that last night they hung out together. Then another fact occurred to him. Even if it were possible for Nero to sober up—Calix had watched him down those drinks, he couldn’t have been faking his inebriation—and get a truck, the rest of the scenario wouldn’t be possible.
For one, he’d known Titus didn’t have his car. Mercy had been there to receive Cal, after all, and Nero had spoken with him.
“Do you really believe that?” Mitri asked, then seemed to consider it. “Anything is possible. I’m only telling you what I can surmise based on the evidence provided to me.”
Calix turned back to the body. “Has anyone contacted his relatives yet?”
“No, I haven’t reported his confirmed identity to anyone. I was waiting for you.”
It was odd, but Cal actually felt sort of bad. Was it because he didn’t believe Nero was responsible? But then how did he explain the guy’s corpse?
He opened his mouth to voice his doubts, but his multi-slate chimed, interrupting him.
Titus Mercer:Come get your friend. He’s disturbing our Second’s peace, and I won’t have it.
He frowned at the message and typed back a quick reply.
Calix:Who?
Zane had been with Aodhan when Cal had left. Had someone else arrived? Maybe Saz or Reed? They could have stopped by to talk about the case or come find answers from Mitri themselves. But they definitely would have called before doing something like that. He didn’t have any other friends. Especially now that Nero was—
Titus Mercer:Who else, little monster? First he’s dropping you off at home, and now he’s making hospital visits? This guy is bold, I’ll give him that. Perhaps it's because he’s already skirted death once.
Dropping him off…Calix stared down at the screen for a while, mind struggling to comprehend what he thought he was seeing. There was only one person who’d ever escorted Cal home, and that person was supposedly currently barbecue.
Calix:Are you saying Nero is there right now?
He’d only just hit send when there was a sharp prick at the side of his arm. He leapt back, cursing and slapping whatever it was away, confused when he spun around to find Mitri standing there with a needle in his right hand.
“What the hell was that?” A sense of foreboding swept through him a second before a wave of dizziness had him careening to the left. He caught himself on the edge of the table, shaking his head in a poor attempt to clear it, to no avail.
His stomach clenched, and he threw the connection between him and his pod wide open while he still could, instinct taking over.
“I’m sorry,” Mitri didn’t sound sorry. “I really like you, Cal. A lot, actually. I was even kind of honored when Bruce suggested the two of us give it a try, despite knowing how much pain you’ve caused Amory.”
“Amory?” Did he know that Mercy had shot her? No. No, because he was also talking about Bruce trying to hook them up. That had happened long before Amory ended up in Mercy’s kitchen.
It was kind of funny though, because Cal understood where Mitri was coming from. He’d liked Amory too. They’d been getting along, seemed to have come to an understanding. He hadn’t wanted anything bad to happen to her.
But he hadn’t tried to avenge her death either.
He must have laughed out loud, because some of Mitri’s calm façade cracked.
“You think that’s an appropriate reaction?” the forensic scientist demanded.
“No, I’m just struggling to understand what’s going on here.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He pointed a shaky finger at the needle. “What did you just inject me with?”
“109-FS,” he stated, as though that meant anything other than an assortment of random numbers and letters to Cal. Herealized with a derisive snort a moment later. “It’s a poison that will give you symptoms mimicking heart failure. You’re going to have a cardiac arrest.”
“Okay.” Not okay, but fine. “And you’re trying to kill me because?”
